


think of how you found me, found me in those arms (so large and dark and holding on)

by isakbechnaesheim



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: 7 minutes in heaven au, M/M, even is perfect whats new, isak is grumpy whats new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 11:13:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10661397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isakbechnaesheim/pseuds/isakbechnaesheim
Summary: Isak and Even spend some time in the closet together.





	think of how you found me, found me in those arms (so large and dark and holding on)

**Author's Note:**

> wow! my first skam fic lifes crazy innit. i had a lot of fun writing this !!! many thanks to my one love [morgan](http://evenbec.tumblr.com/) for helping me out and reminding me how bad my grammar is. hope u enjoy!!! comments and kudos are very much appreciated
> 
> title from you're the best by wet !

Isak is never going to another party. Ever. At least, that’s what he tells himself every time he finds himself at yet another alcohol and weed infested rager that the boys always somehow manage to convince him to attend. It’s not that he doesn’t _like_ alcohol and weed, in fact he very much does, it’s just that --it’s just that the parties that his friends drag him along to are always so _straight_. And Isak is very not straight. But Jonas and Mahdi and Magnus don’t know that. At least not yet.

Isak just can’t stand the masses of girls and boys sloppily shoving their tongues down each others throats and grinding on each other as if public decency laws aren’t a thing. He just can’t relate. He hates that he can’t relate. He hates being reminded that he can’t relate.

Sometimes if his levels of self-loathing are particularly high on a given day (which is more often than he would like to admit), Isak will give in to the hoards of girls that hover around him trying to drunkenly seduce him. He’ll give in to their roaming hands and curious lips and pretty eyes and soft hair. He’ll let them kiss him and feel him and touch him and suck him. But it’s never right. It never feels right. Their sensual laughs annoy him and their soft moans pierce his ears.

But he knows better -- he knows how to politely decline and move on. Isak knows how to find a good wall to lean against (there’s almost never a couch or chair uninhabited by people one clothing layer away from fucking) and quietly sip his beer, mindlessly scrolling away on his phone until the police show up or Magnus has drunk himself into oblivion and the boys need his help dragging him home.

Usually the boys don’t really give a fuck about what Isak does once they arrive at these types of events -- he’s used to them dispersing as soon as they cross the threshold to find the beer or jay or whatever else their teenage boy hearts desire, so Isak is free to huddle in his corner to wait the next four hours out solo. But for some reason, tonight is different. Mahdi, Magnus, and Jonas are all huddled around him, pushing and poking him.

“Why are you just standing here all sad and lonely like a hermit crab, Isak?” Magnus pouts, booming voice much louder than required, and the other two boys nod in agreement, chugging their beers. Isak wonders why they’re just now noticing this. He does not say that out loud.

“I don’t know, I just don’t feel like partying tonight,” Isak stalls. “I’m not gonna hold you guys back though, you don’t have to stand here with me.” He waves his hand towards the mass of people on the makeshift dancefloor, showing his friends that they can join it. That they _should_ join it. Leave him alone, for Christ’s sake. Why can’t a man overthink his entire life and all his choices in peace?

They won’t take the bait.

“Nah man, you’re our best bud! Our Isak!” Jonas yells, throwing a violent arm around Isak’s shoulders. Isak thinks it’s more of an act of stabilization than an act of affection. “Ya know, you need a girlfriend. You need to find a nice girl and finally stop being so lonely and grumpy.” Isak rolls his eyes.

“Like the dancing chicks!” Mahdi chimes in. Magnus nods his head fervently and Jonas grins.

“Exactly!” Jonas says. “Like the dancing chicks! Hey, Isak, tonight we’re gonna help you scope out a girl. We are gonna find you a girlfriend!” He punctuates each word with a harsh poke to Isak’s chest.

“Yeah! Let’s find Isak a girlfriend!” Magnus screeches, and soon the boys start chanting _Isak girlfriend! Isak girlfriend!_ Isak wants nothing more but for his friends to no longer have vocal chords.

“Shut the fuck up guys, oh my god!” he says, covering his face in his hands. He knows no one can hear them nor is anyone paying attention but come _on_ , guys. They stop, bursting into laughter. 

“Okay, okay guys, shut up,” Jonas giggles. “We have to pay attention to find Isak a girl. Looklooklook over there, black dress brown hair, she is HOT.” He indiscreetly points to a girl dancing twenty feet away from them and Isak rolls his eyes. 

“Eh.”

“Oh come on man, you’re no fun, we’re just trying to help you,” Mahdi groans, shoving Isak.  

“Ooo what about her?” Magnus says, pointing to a nondescript girl Isak vaguely recognizes from Nissen. He nods.

“Yeah, she’s hot. I’d bang her,” Isak says, to the woe of the boys. Isak figures he’s not gonna get out of the situation any time soon so he might as well play along. And play along he does. His friends continue to rudely point out every suitor they see fit for their dear friend, and Isak continues to come up with ways in which he’d theoretically bang each one. God, he wishes he was more drunk.

Eventually they run out of girls and start jokingly pick out guys. Isak knows they’re messing around, but he can’t help but overthink the situation. Overthinking is Isak’s middle name. Isak Overthinking Valtersen. That’s him. He takes a long swig of his quickly draining beer.

“Hey Isak what about that guy over there with the long hair?”

“Magnus, that’s literally my cousin Alexander. You’ve met him before.”

“Whatever. The guy he’s talking to is hot.” _Shit, he is hot._ Isak stares at him, drinking him in. His perfectly yet effortlessly styled hair falls in his eyes as he chuckles at something Alexander says, bringing up a large hand to push it out of his face. And that _smile_ . What’s that one cliche Taylor Swift song about that guys smile lighting up the whole town? That’s his smile. The cheap disco lights set up around the house are hitting his eyes just right, and they’re sparkling. His eyes are _literally_ sparkling. Isak didn’t even think that was a real thing.

And of course, as Isak is standing there quite literally gaping at the beautiful stranger, said stranger looks over, right at Isak. And stares back. He holds his gaze for a while, somehow still holding the conversation with Alexander while his eyes bore holes into Isak. He feels like he’s dreaming. One of those twisted dreams where you’re paralyzed and all you can do is stare.

Isak’s dream is quickly interrupted by Magnus aggressively waving a hand in his face, trying to get his attention.

“Yoohoo! Isak! Too much jay? Why are you just staring off into space like a fucking idiot? Me and Mahdi are gonna go get some more beer, come with?”

“Oh uh, yeah sure, whatever,” Isak stutters, chugging what’s left in his can as he snakes through the crowd to get to the kitchen. This was a good decision though. He can’t stop thinking about that guy -- he really needs to be more drunk.

After fishing his choice beer out of the cooler, and popping it open, Isak hops up onto the counter and leans his head back on the wall. He had told Magnus and Mahdi to go back and hang out with Jonas -- Isak needs time away from his friends to ponder alone. Why the fuck was that guy staring back? It couldn’t have been out of interest, he’s way out of Isak’s league. _Way_ out of Isak’s league. Like, Isak is the batter and that guy was like standing outside the stadium or something. Yeah, Isak’s drunk. Honestly, did he have something in his teeth? On his face? Was he just staring because he couldn’t believe how wildly ugly Isak was? Okay, Isak knew that last one probably wasn’t true. Probably. Isak just can’t help thinking about it -- it’s not like staring back at someone who’s staring at you is some grand gesture, it was just, _weird_.

Whatever. He needs to get his mind off this. Isak hops off the counter and makes his way towards the living room where everyone is dancing to the shitty club music pounding through the shitty speakers and acting like they’re having a not shitty time. Isak does hate parties but he gives them props for being good distractions. And that’s what he needs right now. To just stop thinking about random guys and staring guys and hot guys and just _guys_. So, he forces his way into the middle of the horde and lets his body move languidly to the beat of the song, switching between drinking and making out with any and every girl that will let him. They pet him and touch him and hug him and he hates it. He hates it so much, but at least it’s a good diversion. At one point, Jonas stumbles past him while some girls tongue is halfway down Isak’s throat and claps him on the back, and Isak feels a strange sense of accomplishment. It’s a better feeling than the random chick attacking his lips. Whatever.

 And when Magnus drags him away to the kitchen to go play some stupid game of thirty seconds in hell or some shit Isak happily goes along. They all clumsily sit down in a circle on the kitchen floor with a bottle in the center of them. He leans over to Mahdi.

“Wait man, what the fuck are we playing again?” 

“Seven minutes in heaven, bro. Have you never played it?” Isak shakes his head incredulously. “You spin the bottle and whoever it lands on you have to go spend seven minutes in the closet with them, and, ya know,” Mahdi grins and proceeds to make a ridiculously vulgar hand motion. Isak rolls his eyes. Whatever. That’s the motto for tonight.

More and more people come over to join the game, then someone sets a bottle in the center of the circle. The game starts, and some kid with a stupid haircut speaks up. 

“Okay guys, rules. You each get a turn to spin the bottle, and whoever it lands on you have to go spend seven minutes in that linen closet over there and fuck or whatever until your time is up. And you can’t back out if you get same gender.” The guy chuckles to himself. “Alright, let’s start!” The game starts out uneventful. Two random girls getting chosen first, and they get ushered off to the strange closet to “fuck or whatever.” Isak sits there on the floor chatting with his closest friends, and it’s nice. Calming. Until he shows up.

“Too late to join the game?” The stranger from earlier asks, plopping down a few feet away from Isak before he even gets an answer.

“Nah, you’re good. The last two girls are gonna be back any second,” Stupid Hair Kid chimes in, grinning grossly. And right as he says that, the girls stumble out of the closet with mussed up hair, giggling, and following each other to the dance floor. Isak’s inner gay is jealous. Whatever. “Well then! Even, would you like to go next?” _Even_. Isak mouths the name. It feels good to say.

“I would love to,” Even grins, leaning to reach and spin the bottle. His shirt rides up a little and Isak stares at the sliver of skin he gets a sneak peek of. Even twists the bottle with a strange grace and leans back to watch, piercing eyes following its orbit. 

Isak wants it to be him, he’s not gonna lie. But he knows it’s not gonna be. Because there’s like ten other people playing and also the universe hates his guts. But then it is him. What the fuck. What the _fuck_. Even looks at him and smiles a sickening smile, standing to his feet. Isak looks frantically at his friends, and they’re holding in laughter.

“ _Help me!_ ” Isak hisses, because what the _fuck_. He’s not going into that closet with Even for seven excruciating minutes to have his dream crushed. No fucking way.

“Come on, Isak, you heard the dude, no backing out on the gay,” Magnus giggles, and Jonas is red in the face. 

“That’s right, _Isak_ . No backing out on the gay!” Isak hears someone from behind him say. He whips his head around and sees Even extending out his hand towards him. Isak can feel his cheeks heat up to a thousand degrees. He’s drunk, but he needs to be way more drunk. Fuck. He takes Even’s hand and slowly stands up, following him to his impending doom. He hears the boys hooting and hollering, and he flips them off. What _ever_.

They file in, and Isak flips on the light while Even shuts the door. Isak leans on the wall opposite from him, arms crossed. Even flashes another blinding grin at him, and he feels like he’s gonna need to close his eyes or else he’ll go blind. Neither of them say anything. Just stand there and sizing the other up. Isak has sick déjà vu.

After a while, Even breaks. “Great conversation, though?” he giggles, and Isak thinks his laugh is the closest he’ll get to hearing angels sing.

“Why were you staring at me earlier?”

“Wow, straight to the point, aren’t we? Well, I’m Even Bech Næsheim. Just transferred from Bakka to Nissen. And you are?” Isak squints at him, thinking.

“Isak Valtersen,” he says slowly. “Second year at Nissen. But why were you staring at me?” Even chuckles again. Isak wishes he would stop.

“Nice, Nissen is a good school. I really like it so far. And my answer to your question is, why were you staring at me?” Isak rolls his eyes.

“I don’t know, I’m drunk,” he shrugs.

“Well, I personally was staring because you’re cute.” Isak’s face contorts. What the fuck?

“I-I,I uh,”

“No, I get it. You’re straight. I saw you making out with all those girls earlier. It’s fine. Just thought I’d tell you. Why can’t guys tell other guys they’re cute anyway? Why does that have to be gay?” Even is rambling. Isak’s face is still pinched up because he has no idea what the fuck is going on. “I mean, I guess it is a little gay, but don’t girls tell each other they’re cute all the--”

“I’m gay,” Isak blurts, and quickly lowers his head. His face heats up so much he feels like it’s on fire. Why the fuck did he just say that? He brings his hands up to his face so he doesn’t have to see Even. He can hear him push himself up off the door though, and he figures he’s about to leave. Which is fine. It makes sense. Whatever. Isak feels hot tears pushing to fall, and he just wants to _disappear_.

But then suddenly Even is walking towards him and gingerly wrapping his hands around his wrists, pulling them off of his face. Isak still refuses to look at him. He thinks he’s going to die. Even lays a soft hand on Isak’s flaming cheek, and tilts it up so their eyes are level. Isak still won’t meet his gaze.

“Isak, look at me,” Even whispers. He gives in. He looks into his sapphire eyes and a single tear slips out of the corner of his own emerald ones. What the _fuck_ , he can’t believe his own body would betray him like that. Even uses the pad of his thumb to wipe it away. They’re still staring at each other. Seriously, what the hell is with all this staring. He feels like he’s about to have a full on meltdown. He’s never going to another party again in his life.

“Isak. It’s okay.” What?

“What?”

“It’s okay. It’s okay that you’re gay. I am too.” Isak can’t take anymore. He’s drunk and confused and upset and freaked out and he just confessed his darkest secret to some random hot guy in a linen closet of a party. He starts crying silently, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing them violently. Even scoots closer and wraps Isak up in his long arms, rubbing his back while Isak cries. What the _fuck_. They slide down the wall so that they’re both sitting, and Isak is beyond overwhelmed. His mind is racing yet blank at the same time. He has no idea what to do or feel, and Even isn’t making it much better. Except he is. And Isak feels a huge weight off his shoulders -- even though he only told one person. And he doesn’t even know if he can trust him to not tell everyone at school. Except he can.

“I’ve never told anybody that before,” Isak says after he’s calmed down a bit.

“I can tell,” Even chuckles, and Isak pushes him, but smiles too. Even though Isak is obviously feeling better, Even keeps his arms around him, and he isn’t complaining. His head is leaning against his chest, and his heartbeat is calming. But Isak doesn’t want to do this anymore. Isak lifts his head off Even’s chest and looks at him. Even flashes him a lopsided grin.

“Can I kiss you?” Isak asks. Even laughs.

“You may.” Even though Isak asked, Even is the one who leans in slowly, locking eyes with him and drinking him in, until finally he connects his lips with Isak’s. And it’s glorious. Perfect. Brilliant. Beautiful. Transcendent. A kiss or anything more has never made Isak feel anything before. Ever. Until now. Even’s soft, full lips on his made fireworks shoot through his body, made his every nerve feel like it was on fire. Kissing Even is like breathing oxygen after holding your breath for seventeen years. Kissing Even is like feeling sunlight after being underground for your entire life. Kissing Even is good.

Even pulls him closer onto his lap to deepen the kiss, and Isak shivers. He was so passionate yet so gentle. He bites at Isak’s bottom lip but rubs soft circles on his back. Isak feels like exploding. But for the first time all night, or all his life, in a good way.

He leans back for air and to stare at the boy that he just kissed. The _boy_. Isak had fantasized about this scenario so much but this was much better than he could’ve ever imagined. Isak smiles.

“You okay?” Even asks.

“Fantastic.” Isak means it. Even beams at him and lifts a hand to move Isak’s hair out of his face. Isak leans into the touch.

“I hate to ruin the moment, but I think our seven minutes are up,” Even laughs.

“Fuck, has it really only been seven minutes?” Isak says, trying his best to maneuver off Even’s lap without kicking him in the face. It can’t have been seven minutes. It feels like a lifetime ago that no one in the world knew he was gay -- now he’s kissed a boy, and he thinks he gets to do it again.

As if on cue, they hear a loud knocking on the door. “Alright lovebirds, your seven minutes is up!” Stupid Hair yells. Isak doesn’t want to leave the safety of the linen closet. But he also doesn’t want people thinking weirdly about him. Coming out to one person is enough for one day. One step at a time.

He reaches his hand down to Even to help him stand up, then slowly opens the closet door. The door to the outside world. This should not be as big a deal as he makes it. But honestly, last time Isak was out here he was a different person. What a difference seven minutes can make.

As they shuffle out of the linen closet, Isak averts his eyes away from the questioning looks from his friends. He looks at Even who’s sporting a soft, affectionate gaze. Isak decides to take a leap of faith. He holds up a finger to the boys to indicate them to wait, then turns to Even.

“Can I get your number?” Even beams.

“Of course you can.” As Isak hands him his phone to punch in his number, Isak finally looks over at his friends. To his surprise, they’re all holding thumbs up and Magnus looks like he’s on the verge of tears -- in a good way. Isak feels his heart swell. How could he ever think his friends would do anything but support him?

Even finishes and hands Isak back his phone, then leans in to whisper in his ear.

 "Call me, stud,” Even giggles. Then he walks off to join the friends he came with, and Isak does the same, leaving him to ponder everything that just happened.

Seven minutes. 420 seconds. 0.12 of an hour. That’s all it took for Isak to start falling. Just a little bit. Whatever.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on my [tumblr](http://sexibassist.tumblr.com/) :)


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